


i'll be your sinner in secret

by Syster



Category: GOT7
Genre: A very tender one, Double Penetration, Fuck Or Die, Gangbang, M/M, Sex Pollen, Spitroasting, in combination, very light dub-con but only because of the inherent nature of the tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syster/pseuds/Syster
Summary: The entire thing starts off as an itch. Jackson won’t ever be entirely sure exactly when it starts, but he knows that it starts with an itch, insistent and uncomfortable.It’s only when he climbs into Youngjae’s lap for the second time that someone notices that something is wrong. Yugyeom frowns, his brow furrowed, sharing a look with Youngjae who is awkwardly patting at Jackson’s back. Yugyeom gets up to go get Jaebeom, and Youngjae shifts his weight, making Jackson whine and curl closer."Jackson-hyung," Youngjae asks, voice gentle, "Are you okay?"or; there is a curse of humilation, created to reduce the recipient into their most base of needs, and Jackson is a victim of it. GOT7, as a group, as friends and most importantly, as seven people who love each other, help him through it.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Jackson Wang, Im Jaebum | JB/Jackson Wang, Jackson Wang/Everyone, Kim Yugyeom/Jackson Wang, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Jackson Wang, Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang, Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang, and all of those in... combinations., its an ensemble work what can i say
Comments: 44
Kudos: 193





	1. BAPTISM

**Author's Note:**

> title is from crj's run away with me
> 
> this is unbeta'd, but would YOU subject a beta's poor eyes to this monstrosity?
> 
> this is a sex pollen/fuck or die mash up, which means that it's difficult to get away from "dub-con" if you apply it broadly, so I added the tag to be *sure*, but I can not stress enough how consensual this is. they love each other so much, you guys.

The entire thing starts off as an itch. Jackson won’t ever be entirely sure exactly _when_ it starts, but he knows that it starts with an itch, insistent and uncomfortable.

It crawls underneath his skin, burrows into the bones of his hips, digs into the subconscious shift of his mind. He finds himself dozing off everywhere, his movements growing slow and lethargic. He seeks heat like a lizard, climbs onto his members to greedily take theirs in ways that he hasn’t for a while.

It’s only when he climbs into Youngjae’s lap for the second time that someone notices that something is wrong. Yugyeom frowns, his brow furrowed, sharing a look with Youngjae who is awkwardly patting at Jackson’s back. Yugyeom gets up to go get Jaebeom, and Youngjae shifts his weight, making Jackson whine and curl closer.

“Jackson-hyung - ” Youngjae says, and it sounds like he’s underwater. Jackson just blinks at him, closing his eyes as someone new puts their hand on his forehead, and he feels so cold and hot at the same time, but touch - touch makes it better. He leans into the hand like a dog, closing his eyes, and Youngjae sounds so far away, “Jackson, are you okay?”

Jackson doesn’t answer.

He’s not sure he can. 

\--

“I guess not all of us have to do it,” Jaebeom says, even though his frown seems to suggest he’s not particularly fond of the idea of leaving at all, “Mark and someone else would probably be enough, but -”

“The curse lasts for at least eight hours,” Mark interjects, his voice sharp and dry, his eyes narrowing as he speaks, “I’m grateful for the confidence in my stamina, but c’mon guys...” Mark was annoyingly calm considering they’d more or less confirmed what curse they are dealing with.

“They can do the exorcism,” Jackson slurs. Even as he burrows deeper against Youngjae, his skin pales a bit more for every passing second, dark-blue veins starting to show alarmingly stark underneath his skin, twisting into the mark of Humiliation forming on his neck, “I’ll do the exorcism.”

“Seun-ah,” Jinyoung says, his grip tight on the couch, “It’s not an option, it’s too risky.”

“I won’t be the thing that tears our group apart,“ Jackson says, pushing himself off Youngjae, determination set in every tense muscle of his body, “I won’t -” He closes his eyes, takes a breath, and it seems to shudder through him. He looks... Jackson has always moved effortlessly between cute, beautiful, and fiercely handsome. He shifts, depending on what the situation needs, but right now -

It’s as though someone has started to peel all of that away, and the only thing left is just Jackson, large-eyed, pale-faced, keeping himself together with quiet, indestructible determination.

“This will not destroy us,” Yugyeom says, his voice pale but determined, reaching out to take Jackson’s hand, curling around it as though it is something precious, something that needs to be held gently, “It will not. We won’t let it. I’ll help.”

“Yeah, uh, me too,” Bambam says, flushing as he looks away, but then he squares his jaw and looks back to Jackson and the rest of them, determination set in his body. Sometimes, Jaebeom thinks, they forget that Bambam loves Jackson, loves him in a way that none of the others really understand.

“And as I said earlier, I’m in,” Mark shrugs. He’d taken the ‘ _so Jackson has been cursed’_ -thing really well, in true unflappable Markian fashion. He’d simply set his jaw and given a quiet _i’ll help_ the moment he’d heard it, “It’s been a while since Markson, huh?” He leans over, touching his fingers to one of Jackson’s wrist. The way Jackson, seemingly instinctively, gasps at the touch does not go unnoticed.

“You do _not_ get to be funny about this,” Jackson wheezes, smiling, and from the concerned turn of Mark’s eyebrows, Jaebeom knows that Jackson is burning up, “I’m the funny one.”

“We’ll let you get right back to that,” Jinyoung says, sounding a bit airy, but his hands are tight around the sofa’s backrest, and he hasn’t left Jackson’s side for a moment since Jaebeom called them all into the room. Jinyoung looks at Jaebeom, his impassive brown gaze determined, “So?”

Sometimes, Jaebeom gets the feeling that he is the leader by Jinyoung’s grace, and that the moment Jinyoung decides that he no longer accepts Jaebeom’s leadership is the moment Jaebeom loses his role (it’s not true, not really, not if he thinks about it, but it’s a feeling, and a feeling doesn’t have to be rational). This is one of those times.

Jaebeom looks at Jackson, at his pale skin, at the mark coming into place right over the pulse of his neck, at the flush of his cheeks, the shortness of his breath, the way he clings to Yugyeom’s hand like a lifeline.

The curse of humiliation is not as common as it used to be at the beginning of the entertainment industry’s formation, not since the laws caught on to the practice, made it a lot easier to pursue and judge those who performed it (witchcraft, otherwise, is usually kept carefully unregulated, considering the substantial powers of the Council). Now, none of them are stupid, they all wear their protective talismans, but this curse is... difficult to block. It is a curse born from malicious intent and jealousy, crafted by stolen blood and grave-dirt. It is, as the name suggests, a curse designed to humiliate, made to reduce the cursed to nothing but base needs. Jaebeom spends half a second wondering who hates Jackson enough to risk the lengthy prison sentence to bring him humiliation. Jaebeom didn’t know Jackson _could_ be hated in such a fashion. Jaebeom can’t even _fathom_ hating Jackson in that way, Jackson with his big heart, his sweet eyes, and large laughter. And Jaebeom has spent a lot of time exasperated by Jackson, but can still not imagine it sticking for longer than a moment, can not imagine the exasperation overpowering the warmth of Jackson’s presence.

“Yeah,” he looks at Youngjae, who calmly returns his gaze, his hand rubbing soothing, gentle motions onto Jackson’s back, ”Yeah, let's do it.”

Someone wants Jackson to be humiliated. An exorcism is humiliating, put into the public record, promptly reported on mere days later by gossip rags and internet sleuths. Passing Jackson over to management to let them find other _volunteers_ is even worse because sooner or later, it leaks. Someone wants Jackson brought down, humiliated, given no choice and no voice.

Jaebeom will not let that happen. 

\--

Jackson has always been like water. They all know this. It’s one of the admirable things about Jackson, watching the way he flows between people, alternating personalities, lessening or expanding himself depending on the situation. He’s always _Jackson_ , loud and boisterous, but he’s louder with Youngjae than he is with Jaebeom, he is sweeter with Jinyoung than with Bambam. He is who they need him to be, even if the fundamental parts of him stay the same (the neediness, the assuredness, the bravery -).

It’s an admirable quality.

But right now, Jackson is almost _too_ amiable, quiet and easy. When Mark pushes Jackson onto the bed, making him sit on the edge so that Jinyoung can remove his socks and Mark can remove his shirt, Jackson is easily pushed down, easily told what to do. It’s disconcerting, but also... precious, for the rarity of it. Jackson wants to be taken care of, it’s one of their badly kept secrets, but he rarely actually _lets_ them take care of him properly.

Once Jackson is naked, Jaebeom kind of has to... take a moment, watching Jackson lean back against the sheets, all golden, naked skin and carved muscle. Jackson spends so much time playing to masculinity that sometimes you forget that underneath the hardness, Jackson is _beautiful,_ thin-waisted and broad-shouldered. His hair falls into his brown eyes, large and guileless, clearly struggling to stay with them, his pink lips open in a quiet, wet pant.

Bambam is standing a bit further away, looking uncertain, biting his lip.

“You alright, Bammie?” Jackson looks at him, his tone is thin and stretched out. They can all feel the heat of his skin, and his voice, his lovely rasp of a voice that they all adore, is strained and hoarse and _warm_. He holds out a hand, and Bambam steps forward to take it, instinctively, as though there is nothing else to do when Jackson holds out a hand but to hold it. Bambam, all long limbs and newly-acquired broad shoulders, strokes a thumb over the back of Jackson’s hand.

“Yeah,” Bambam murmurs, nodding slightly, “Yeah, just nervous.” Yugyeom strokes a comforting hand over Bambam’s back, and Bambam seems to relax a bit. There is a second of silence, a moment where Bambam just looks at Jackson, and Jackson gazes back. And then Bambam grins, raising both of his eyebrows, leaning forward to tuck Jackson’s hand against his heart, “I’ll rock your world, Jackson-ah,” he coos, waggling an eyebrow, and Jackson breaks out into startled laughter, using his captured hand to shove at Bambam’s chest.

“Stop that, you ass -” Jackson says, but the last word breaks on a gasp, and he grimaces as a slow convulsion of pain and pleasure makes his back arch, his breath stutter, “Ah -”

“Have you done it before?” Mark asks, all business, leaning over Jackson who is shivering underneath him, panting, “Jackson, c’mon, stay with us.”

“Hyung -” Jackson gasps, arching his hips, his jaw slackening into an o, grasping at Mark’s shirt, “Please, hyung -”

“Answer me, gaga,” Mark says, placing one hand over Jackson’s, threading their fingers together, his voice authoritative and deep. Jackson whines, blinks, takes a couple of breaths, and then he speaks, slurring on every second word.

“No, no, not with - ah, not with a guy -”

“Who do you want to be first?” Mark murmurs, his fingers tightening around Jackson’s hand, his voice softening into a whisper.

Virginity is a social construct, sure, but Jackson is a bleeding-heart romantic. Mark knows that for all the playful playboy vibes he put out at the beginning of their career, Jackson has always had a tender, dreaming heart. He believes in the _one_ , in _soulmates_. He remembers every first time, even for the girlfriend that broke his heart, _and_ most specifically, he remembers the firsts between the group itself. He is often the one to loudly exclaim that it’s time to celebrate the first time they ate chicken together, or _something_ equally banal that Jackson has decided matters. It’s an often forgotten trait of his, since it’s mostly used for holding grudges, but that’s who Jackson is. Multi-faceted. 

For a moment, Jackson just stares at him, and then he blinks, slow and lethargic, and for a moment Mark is scared that Jackson won’t be honest, won’t _ask_ for who he wants, because Jackson wouldn’t want to play favorites. But then Jackson twists around, reaches out both hands towards Jinyoung, standing a bit to the side of Mark. Jinyoung’s breath seems to stutter a bit, caught in his throat.

“Jinyoungie -” Jackson says, his voice breaking, sounding a bit lost, dry, and cracked, “Jinyoungie, please -”

Jinyoung swallows, stepping forward as Mark steps back. Jinyoung takes his place between Jackson’s legs, not necessarily looking nervous, but maybe... careful. Tender. He’s still dressed in a t-shirt and sweats, and Jackson is completely bare. The sight of Jackson curling his golden, well-toned limbs around Jinyoung, arching his back, his breath coming in quicker, is... something. It’s - it’s vulnerable, it’s tender, it’s _really fucking hot_.

“Jinyoungie,” Jackson whimpers again, sweat gathering on his temple, heat radiating off him like a furnace, “It _hurts_.”

“Seun-ah,” Jinyoung answers, covering Jackson almost completely, leaning forward press a kiss against Jackson’s temple, to take one of Jackson’s hands and push it back against the bed, using his other arm to grasp Jackson around his waist, tugging him closer, his voice a low hush of comfort, “I’ve got you, Seun-ah, please trust me.”

Jackson nods, closing his eyes, his entire body relaxing, easy and trustful in Jinyoung’s arms.

\--

There is a soft whimper from Jackson as Jinyoung adds a second finger, slipping into Jackson’s tight, wettened hole. There is a frankly alarming amount of lube, but it makes the slide easier, makes the preparation a bit quicker, and so they just decided that these sheets are probably going to be a lost cause anyway and went for it. Jackson is so beautiful, gasping in staccato underneath him, his entire body curling with need and desire. For a moment, Jinyoung leans forward to rest his head in the crook of Jackson’s neck, because it’s - it’s a lot. His attraction to Jackson has always been an abstract thing, a quiet low-hum backdrop to their entire shared lives. He never imagined something would come of it. He never _expected_ anything to come of it. But here they are, and as Jinyoung pushes his fingers inside Jackson, making Jackson gasp oh so sweetly, Jinyoung can not imagine a life without doing this. He can not imagine a life without _Jackson_. The thought of him disappearing, slipping between their fingers into the nebulous aftermath of a curse is unimaginable.

“Jinyoungie -” Jackson pleads his name like a prayer, and Jinyoung presses a kiss against Jackson’s neck, nips at the skin, answers the only way he knows how, “Please, please, I need it, give it, ah -”

There should be more preparation. Had this been under, uh, different circumstances, Jinyoung wouldn’t even have gone past this point the first night. He’d make Jackson shake apart on his fingers, maybe have Jackson jerk him off, but now... they don’t have the time. And fuck, Jackson begs so nicely, and he is so beautifully willing, gasping so sweetly, and Jinyoung - Jinyoung is only a man.

“Just a little bit more, Seun-ah,” Jinyoung murmurs, pressing a kiss against the corner of Jackson’s mouth, nosing at a high-cheekbone, scissoring his fingers to stretch him out just a little bit more, “You can do it.”

“I can’t -” Jackson whimpers, breaking off into wordless moans and gasps, a constant stream of noise that seems so close to being words but actually aren’t any, “ _Please -_ ” Jackson slurs out the word as he pushes his hips downwards, forcing Jinyoung’s fingers deeper, desperation coloring each move and twitch, “Please -”

“Jesus,” someone says hoarsely from behind them, voice heavy with arousal, and Jinyoung agrees whole-heartedly. Jinyoung’s cock is thick and hard, and when he removes his fingers from inside Jackson, the noise that Jackson makes, a low, pleading little sound, goes straight to it. Jinyoung helps Jackson flip over so that Jackson is on his stomach, and Jackson whines, spreading his legs, arching his back.

“Breathe with me, Seun-ah,” Jinyoung murmurs, lining himself up, steadying Jackson’s hip with one hand at the small of his back, keeping him still. Jackson is murmuring incessantly into the sheets, pleading in soft, wordless, desperate whimpers, as though unable to be quiet for even a second, “Follow my breathing,” The head of his cock press against Jackson’s entrance, the thick head barely able to breach the tight rim, even lube-slick and stretched open. 

Jackson shudders, but when Jinyoung breathes out, so does Jackson. They breathe in together, and as Jackson breathes out, Jinyoung pushes his cock inside, his own breath stuttering. _Fuck_ , that’s - ah, _tight_. Jackson has gone still underneath him and Jinyoung closes his eyes, finds whatever calm there is left inside him, and carefully strokes a hand along Jackson’s side, “Breathe, Sseunie.”

The breath Jackson pulls in shudders through him, exhaled in a gasp, a whine, and then -

“Jinyoungie -” Jackson slurs, arching his back, canting his hips downward, “Yes, _yes_ -”

Jinyoung’s blood rushes in his ears, and Jinyoung takes a steadying breath, slowly sinking deeper, keeping Jackson still as he slowly, agonizingly slowly, pushes into him. Jackson is scrabbling at the sheets, his eyes wide and dazed, and Jinyoung rocks back, almost far enough to slip out, and then he pushes back down, Jackson opening up for him, spreading his legs wider, begging for every single inch.

It’s been too long, Jinyoung thinks, deliriously, as he is encased in slick, tight heat. Maybe he’d have more control if it hadn’t been so long. Jackson looks back over his shoulder, his large brown eyes hooded, wetness clinging to his long eyelashes. _No,_ Jinyoung thinks, grinding his teeth, rocking his hips, sliding deeper, _no, it probably wouldn’t have helped, they wouldn’t have been_ Jackson.

When Jinyoung bottoms out, both he and Jackson make a low, punched-out sound. Jinyoung gives himself a moment, a second, to gather himself, to pet at Jackson’s sweat-drenched back soothingly. 

_You chose me_ , Jinyoung thinks, pressing a kiss against Jackson’s muscled back, _you reached for me_. Jinyoung starts to move, thrusting his hips in slow, steady motions. Jackson moans, raises his hips, Jinyoung feels it underneath him, the slight, eager movements, and Jinyoung has to close his eyes to not move too fast, to keep the pace steady.

After a few slow thrusts, Jackson’s hole doesn’t cling to him as much, doesn’t push as hard around him. The tightness is almost unbearable, the heat almost painful, but then the slide goes easier, his movements a bit more unhindered.

“So good,” Jackson mumbles, in accent-heavy Korean, “Feels so good, Jinyoungie.”

 _Fuck_ , Jinyoung’s pace stutters, and then he pushes back harder, making Jackson break off into a moan on another soft _Jinyoungie_. Jinyoung thrusts, drives back inside, rocks his hips, and fuck - _fuck_ -

Jackson is so hot and willing, so warm and trusting, so devastatingly beautiful like this. Jinyoung grabs Jackson by the hips, tilts him upwards, and then thrusts harder, heavier, drives into Jackson with a single-minded purpose.

“You have to come inside him,” Mark says from in front of them, sitting on the bed by Jackson’s head, his eyes dark, his cock already hard and straining, “It won’t help, otherwise.”

“I know,” Jinyoung grinds out between his teeth, chasing the building pleasure, thrusting into Jackson’s body, “ _Fuck_ -”

His pace stutters, and he thrusts hard into Jackson’s tight heat one last time, and with the tail-end of that movement, he comes. He folds himself over Jackson as he gasps out his climax, kissing the back of Jackson’s neck.

After a breath, Jinyoung pulls out, softening cock slipping out easily once he moves. Jackson’s cock is still hard and straining between his legs, barely leaking pre-cum. Jackson won’t release until the curse starts to break, and that could be _hours_. Jinyoung presses one last kiss to Jackson’s neck, curling his fingers in the baby hairs matted with sweat, fingers gentle with all the care and empathy that swells in his chest. With a soft sound, Jinyoung flops over next to Jackson so that he lays on his back next to him, panting.

“You alright, gaga?” Mark murmurs, in Mandarin, the language sweet and comfortable. Jackson cracks open an eye, looks back at him. He doesn’t answer, just opens his red, spit-slick mouth, his hips stuttering in a half-aborted, needy motion. Mark hums, tracing a finger over Jackson’s cheek, gently stroking some comfort into the motion. Then he moves between Jackson’s legs, placing both hands on the lower part of his hips, using his thumbs to spread Jackson open. Jackson’s hole is pink, clenching around nothing, and Mark licks his lips, looking up.

“Jaebeom-ah, take his mouth,” Mark says, almost cooly, even as he lines himself up, head already pressing against Jackson’s opening. Jaebeom, who is staring, his eyes flickering from Jackson to Mark to Jinyoung back to Jackson, specifically at his mouth, the red fullness of his lips, nods, swallowing thickly.

Jaebeom’s cock is thick, and Jackson struggles a bit to take him in, but they manage to find a rhythm, Jackson’s mouth around Jaebeom’s cock, Jaebeom’s hand in Jackson’s hair. When Mark pushes inside, Jackson gives a low, guttural moan, eyes flickering shut, his mouth slackening, allowing Jaebeom to slide a bit deeper.

They struggle, a bit, to find a pace, because Jackson’s movements are just eager, struggling to take both of them deeper. Mark has to steady him, and after a moment, Jinyoung’s hand comes to rest against Jackson’s back, calming him down as well.

It’s sloppy, and fast, with Mark thrusting into Jackson so that Jackson moves over Jaebeom’s cock in shallow, wet increments. Jaebeom cards a hand through Jackson’s hair, strokes a finger at the corner of Jackson’s eye. It’s such a soft little gesture, full of a tenderness that Jaebeom rarely allows himself to show. Jackson leans into it, eyelashes fluttering over his cheekbones, lips stretched wide over Jaebeom’s cock.

“You have to swallow, gaga.” Mark says, his voice dark and deep, his cock sliding deep into Jackson as Jackson clenches around him, Jaebeom’s movements growing a bit erratic, “You can do it, Jackson-ah.”

Jackson slurs something around Jaebeom’s cock in agreement, and bobs his head downwards, sinking a bit deeper. Jaebeom groans, low and deep in the back of his throat, and Jackson’s throat works as he swallows.

It takes only a thrust or two more until Mark come as well, because -

Because fuck, it’s not like Jackson hasn’t been a frequent visitor in Mark’s wet dreams. Jackson is larger-than-life, has been ever since the day they met, kind and petty, warm and harsh, all in equal measures. And above that, beyond that, Jackson is _lovely_. Handsome, imperfect, beautiful, eager, _gentle_ -

Mark leans over Jackson’s back, biting down at the juncture of shoulder and neck, sharp teeth almost breaking skin. His hips stutter at the hoarse, pleading noise Jackson makes in answer and at that, he comes, emptying inside Jackson. He presses a kiss, in apology, as a signature, against the bite mark now stark on Jackson’s back, before moving back.

“How about some water, hyung?” Yugyeom says softly, his eyes gentle, carefully lifting Jackson’s chin. Jackson shakes his head, pushing himself up, reaching out for Yugyeom and his long, reddening cock, already full and hard, “Ah, wait, a moment, please -” Yugyeom starts, and Bambam grabs Jackson’s arms, holds him back. Jackson whines, his voice thick.

“Gyeomie, please -”

“I know, hyung, I know,” Yugyeom murmurs, his touch gentle in contrast to Bambam’s tight grip, “Just a little bit, hm?” Yugyeom unscrews the bottle of water, “For me?” Jackson stares at him, Yugyeom’s gentle eyes gazing back, and then Jackson nods, and Yugyeom, in turn, inclines his head to Bambam who loosens his grip so that Jackson can slip loose. Jackson pushes himself up into a kneeling position, his legs shaking. Yugyeom presses the bottle against his lips and Jackson dutifully drinks, throat bobbing with each swallow.

“Well done,” Yugyeom says, his voice warm, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jackson slurs, sneaking closer, wrapping his arms around Yugyeom’s neck, nosing at Yugyeom’s jaw, “Mm, Gyeomie,” he giggles, pressing a kiss against Yugyeom’s soft skin. 

“Ah, so pretty,” Yugyeom says, flushing deep and crimson, “I can’t believe how pretty you’ve looked, like this.”

“Very pleasing,” Bambam agrees, grinning, grabbing at Jackson’s hips, tugging him back, flipping him over, Jackson facing him on his back, “Such a pretty hyung,” Bambam teases, his voice a cheerful lilt, the long lines of his lean, muscular body stretching over Jackson. He places his hands on Jackson’s ass, spreads his cheeks, and then just... sinks into him, cock slipping into Jackson’s tight heat, his hole slick with lube and cum, making the glide sinfully easy. Jackson’s legs twitch, but before he can wrap them around Bambam’s waist, Bambam pushes one of his legs back, hand on Jackson’s knee, giving Bambam all the leverage for movement.

“I’ll probably come pretty quick, Jackson-hyung,” Yugyeom says apologetically as Jackson stretches backward, opening his mouth, Yugyeom’s cock slipping between his lips, “You’ve really been very nice to look at,”

Jackson makes a low, soothing sound in the back of his throat. Being on his back, with Bambam thrusting into him, and Yugyeom feeding him his cock, gives him - it gives him almost no room to move, no way to set the pace. It’s overwhelming, it’s - it’s - he gasps as Bambam gives one hard thrust, making Yugyeom’s long cock slide deeper into his mouth, his tongue undulating underneath the hard, leaking length in his mouth. He’s drooling, spit slipping from the side of his mouth, from around Yugyeom’s cock.

It doesn’t take much more than that for Yugyeom, the hot glide of Jackson’s mouth, the reverberating moans around his cock as Bambam pushes into Jackson, hard and unrelenting, Jackson’s eyes closed shut, just taking, _taking_ -

Yugyeom comes with a soft, breathless sound, a marriage between a ground and a moan, and when he slips out, some of his cum follows with, and he gently brushes a thumb over Jackson’s lips, pushing the cum back into his mouth. Jackson licks at his fingers, and Yugyeom smiles,

“You have to swallow all of it, hyung,”

Yugyeom doesn’t move, instead he stays where he is, watching over Jackson as Bambam fucks into him, his eyes big and intent on Jackson’s face. Bambam fucks hard, in deep and steady strokes, and Jackson moves with each thrust, his fingers on Bambam’s biceps, mouth open as he gasps, his swollen lips sometimes catching on the ends of his teeth as he sucks in a breath. 

Bambam shifts his weight slightly, makes a small noise in the back of his throat and then pushes Jackson’s legs further out, makes him open up even further, and when he thrusts back into Jackson, Jackson starts to squeal with each thrust, the low punched-out sound pushed out of him with each breath. Jackson’s gaze grows hazy, his swollen, red mouth stretched into an _o_ , his cheeks flushed with warmth.

“Fuck, that sound -” Bambam closes his eyes, “Fuck, Gyeomie, do you hear that?”

“I hear it,” Yugyeom answers, stroking back Jackson’s sweaty bangs, baring his face to their combined gaze, “You should come now, Bammie, let someone else have a turn.“

Bambams rhythm stutters, fails, and with one last, hard stroke, he comes. Jackson whines, _whines,_ when Bambam pulls out. Jackson arches his back, runs a hand in between his legs, pushing at his cum-filled hole, shuddering as heat rushes through him, hot and all-consuming, ah, he needs, he needs -

Jaebeom swats his hand away, grabbing both of Jackson’s legs, almost folding him in half as he pushes inside, one hard stroke to bottom out. Youngjae, his eyes disappearing into a smile, slips his cock into Jackson’s sweet mouth as Jackson gasps at being filled. Youngjae pushes his cock deeper, one hand on Jackson’s throat. Jackson slurps around it, drooling around him, swallowing around the cock in his mouth. Jaebeom thrusts, runs a hand along Jackson’s ribs, stopping to rest on Jackson’s chest, thumb gracing one of Jackson’s nipples, and _oh_ , Jackson gargles around Youngjae’s cock, eyes sliding shut, _oh_. 

“C’mon, hyung,” Youngjae murmurs, his voice light and teasing, pulling out of Jackson’s mouth for a second before sliding back inside, thrusting his hips shallowly, “Take it deeper.”

Jackson nods, swallows, and at the next thrust Jaebeom gives, Jackson relaxes his throat, his mouth, and Youngjae is pushed deeper, brushing into his throat. Youngjae hisses, stroking a thumb over Jackson’s throat, right where his cock hits every time Jaebeom thrusts deep, “Oh, you’re doing so good.”

Jackson whimpers, clenching around Jaebeom, who curses, driving the next thrust deeper, his throat contracting around the head of Youngjae’s cock. They move like that, for a while, Jackson loose between them, shoved deeper onto Youngjae’s cock with each thrust.

“Ah, you’ll take all of me, before this is over,” Youngjae comments, his touch soft and reverent as he traces a finger down Jackson’s straining throat, “You’re so _good_ , Jackson-hyung.” He breathes the last words out softly and with an equally soft sigh he spills his release down Jackson’s throat, keeping himself in place to make sure nothing slips out. When he pulls out, Jackson is just staring at him, panting, a soft sound escaping him almost involuntarily at Jaebeom’s every thrust.

“He’s slipping,” Jinyoung murmurs next to them, and Youngjae nods carefully, spreading his legs so that he can tuck Jackson against his chest, so that he can run his hands over Jackson’s golden skin. Jaebeom follows with him, easily finding his pace in their new position, Jackson in Youngjae’s lap, legs wrapped around Jaebeom’s waist.

“It’s part of it,” Mark answers softly as Youngjae soothingly runs a hand over Jackson’s shoulders, tracing patterns over his skin, “We’ll just -” he swallows, starts again, “We’ll just have to keep reminding him of who he is.”

Youngjae nods at that, taking a deep breath, and then he starts to talk, his voice warm and full, carrying a bright smile around its edges, “I love your voice, Jackson-hyung,” Youngjae giggles, running a hand down to pinch at one of Jackson’s nipples, making Jackson gasp, “I know you always take it as a joke, but I really do,” Youngjae’s long-fingered hands find Jackson’s nipples, flicks them almost leisurely before pinching down, making them red, full, and swollen. Jackson gasps, moans, tenses, Jaebeom swears right out as Jackson tightens around him, “And let me tell you,” Youngjae murmurs, “It sounds especially sweet now, Jackson-ah.”

Jackson whimpers, his body arching off the bed, a picture of golden skin and beautiful muscle, and Jaebeom is pulled over the edge, quickly slamming Jackson down on his cock to make sure it spills deep inside him.

Mark fucks him after that, Jackson on his knees, chest pushed against the sheets, legs spread, arms pulled behind him and held onto by Mark. Jackson gasps uselessly, wordlessly, into the sheets while Mark murmurs sweet things to him in Mandarin, grounding both of them in their shared language, in the comfortable home created by familiar syllables. As soon as Mark finishes, Jinyoung pulls Jackson onto his cock, bottoming out with a single, hard thrust, angling his hips, driving hard and deep. Jinyoung’s pace is steady and unforgiving, and Jackson merely follows along, time melting together into nothing but heat, cum, and soft, sweet voices, whispering into his ear, telling him he’s beautiful, good, worthy. Jackson’s hand scrabbles along Jinyoung’s shoulders, nails digging into Jinyoung’s skin. Jinyoung bites onto his neck, sucking a deep mark into the skin, and Jackson gargles, clenching down, making Jinyoung’s hips move hard into him one last time and then Jinyoung comes, breathing out _so good, seunie, so hot and perfect_ , into Jackson’s ear.

Youngjae doesn’t even use his mouth again, just holds Jackson’s chin so that he can come onto Jackson’s tongue, murmuring praise as Jackson licks his lips, swallowing every drop. Yugyeom slots into place inside Jackson easily, Jackson once again on his knees, Bambam using his mouth. Yugyeom frowns as he watches Jackson take Bambam deep enough to make Bambam give a hoarse, strangled noise, Jackson’s mouth hangs slack, his eyes gazing up into Bambam’s face, his large eyes hooded, dark and adoring.

“Hyung?” Yugyeom murmurs, leaning forward, whispering the words against Jackson’s skin as Jackson swallows down around Bambam’s cock, “Jackson-hyung?”

Jackson doesn’t answer, just clenches down around Yugyeom’s cock, his skin flushed deep and dark, the shadowy deep of his pupils and iris so blown and wide they seem to almost consume his entire sclera. He is nothing, nothing but the move of the cocks inside him, nothing but the heat burning through his blood, nothing but - he is nothing but the thick slide, the burn, the clench, the taste of cock on his tongue, the weight of cum inside him - _ah_ \- he moans, low and deep, delirious.

“He’ll get better, we just have to keep going,” Jinyoung says hoarsely, “Let’s hope he can sleep a bit after you two, so we have some time to rest up.”

“We can do that, can’t we, Jackson-hyung?” Bambam says, his voice hoarse, his eyes far more tender than he’d later like to admit, but it’s visible in every line of him, in the way he gently cradles Jackson’s cheek, in the careful thrust as he drives his cock into Jackson’s red, abused mouth, “No one is better at tiring you out than us, right?”

Jackson merely moans, and Yugyeom and Bambam share a look. They set a hard, unforgiving pace, just teetering on the line of too much. They love Jackson, both of them, they always have, Jackson being loud and fun, always willing to play around, to joke and laugh and start trouble, and then defend them afterward when they got caught (even if, at first, Jackson would act as though he would sell them out for a mediocre chocolate bar, and he’d do the same spiel every time, long after both Bambam and Yugyeom caught on that Jackson would _never_ betray them, not really, not when it counts).

Their thrusts are deep, hard, harmonized, playing off each other perfectly. Jackson takes all of it, _all of it_ , begs for it, begs for _more_. 

They come at the same time, Yugyeom’s voice is hoarse as he stutters to a stop, slamming his hips against Jackson’s for one last thrust, Bambam giving a low, drawn-out groan as he spills into Jackson’s waiting, willing mouth.

Their movements are careful as they pull out, Jackson whimpering at every movement. He is leaking cum, his thighs stained with lube, cum, and sweat. Drool stains his chin, and when he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, it feels tender, so tender. Jackson is still shivering, even as his mouth is open in a pant, tiredness written into every shift of his muscles, into the lines of his body. He shudders as Jinyoung eases a hand down his back, and then leans into the touch, closing his eyes.

“It’s okay, Seunie,” Jinyoung murmurs, his voice gentle and melodic, and there is another hand in his hair, and Mark’s quiet, deep voice murmuring the same sentiment in Mandarin. Jackson is so _tired_. The heat still burns, but the cum inside him seems to lessen the heat a bit, give him a moment of respite, stilling the harsh, burning _need_ coursing through his veins, “It’s okay, sleep, we’ll be here when you wake up and need us again.”

Jackson nods, not quite sure what he heard, but knowing that he trusts this, trusts these voices, trusts _them_. He rocks himself into sleep, fitful and restless, but warm and taken care of, nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have two wolves inside me.
> 
> one of them is named 'i'm going to hell for this', the other one is called 'i should name the chapters, like, _religiously_ '. guess which one is winning?
> 
> why did i write this? i wanted to test out the dynamics of jackson/everyone, because i have been struggling getting into especially the maknae line, and so i decided to test them out as an ensemble before i start proper one-shots focusing on them. that's my excuse, and i'm sticking to it ~
> 
> i can not stress enough the motivation i get from comments, so if you find yourself intrigued by this, please leave a line!
> 
> [I made a twitter!](https://twitter.com/Syster19) it's pretty empty so far but hey, if you want to fall apart with me about got7 on a daily basis, get fic updates and also weird little tidbits about my writing (how many times did it say cum as a verb before i changed it to come? 17 times. that's some statistics for ya)? that's probably gonna be the place.


	2. COMMUNION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as earlier stated, dub-con is only tagged because it's inherent to the genre, but the entire point of this is for it to be a ridiculously tender sex-pollen-fuelled orgy.
> 
> this work is unbeta'd, because if i go to hell, i go alone.

Jackson barely knows where he is. His blood boils with lust, need, and want but beyond that, he is _nothing_ else. Every touch sets his skin aflame, every ghostly caress of fingers over his ribs makes his heart render inside his chest. When someone traces a finger over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, he sobs, barely managing to keep himself human in the wave of lust that crashes over him.

He is nothing but a writhing creature of need, who wants to be filled, fucked, _anything_ , as long as it soothes the burning ache of his loins, the liquid fire of his blood. He begs for it, wanting it harder, deeper. At the slightest touch, he arches his back and begs like a bitch.

There is an itch settled so deep and hard into his bones that it seems impossible to scratch. It aches, it bleeds, it burns and pulsates. _More_ , it says, seeping into the fog of his mind, into the roaring growl of his arousal, _more_ , it murmurs, mixing itself into the begging pants escaping his lips.

Someone grasps him tighter, their hands large on his hips, forcing themselves deeper into him, harder, _harder_. Jackson reaches up, tangles his hand into their hair, opens his mouth to speak but manages only harsh, aching gasps. _More_ , he begs, spreading his legs wider, arching his back, scrabbling at the sheets, at any hint of skin. Someone empties inside him, and Jackson sobs in split-second relief, half a second of cool before the fire roars back, consumes him once again. He is manhandled onto his back, pushed down onto another cock, seated tight and snug. He blabbers out nonsense, a mockery of words, but still he tries to speak, because words, words should make them move faster, fill him fuller, break him open, take what he gives.

There are hands tracing his jaw, his cheek, someone stroking his swollen, leaking cock, another one flicking their fingers over his nipples, tugging at them until he gasps and moans wetly at each pull. Hands, ah, there are hands grasping at his hair, pushing into his mouth, pulling his tongue out holding it there until cum splatters against it and Jackson lap it up greedily, licking his lips as though it is a treat. They are talking to him, but Jackson doesn’t understand, so he just whines, clenches around the cock inside him, opens his mouth, wants and wants, and wants. Someone nips at his neck before biting down properly and he gasps, broken and open-mouthed, begs for it, more pain,, more cock, more cum, more _anything_.

And yet -

And yet, there is gentleness.

And yet, he is safe, even now. Even though he is burning, begging, pleading. He is fucked against the sheets, gasping for fullness and needing for more, and when they’ve filled him, taken their turns, used him up, they wipe his forehead with a wet cloth, dripping some cold water into his parched mouth after filling it with cock. 

They cradle his head, making sure it doesn’t hit the bed-frame as they fuck him against it. They try to make him eat, even as he whines and turns away his head, only allowing the apple slices into his mouth as he is fucked hard, swallowing them down in between whiny, needy little gasps.

And... oh, they call him beautiful.

They call him lovely.

They tell him how good he is, how well he takes them. They murmur laughter into his skin as he rides them, softly sharing their joy with him, even as he burns. And when they don’t talk, they show it, they show how beautiful they find him, through their gentle care, in sweet, delicate touches, in the way they gently wipe his chin when some cum slips out so that he can swallow it, so that it eases the itch climbing his spine.

He falls asleep intermittently and wakes up clean every time, but still full and heavy with cum, the way he wants to be, the way he _needs_ to be. Someone is always close, always touching him, their hand intertwined with his, and when the heat starts up again, when the fire threatens the very foundation of him, to steal away every inch of his being, he is given what he needs.

He’s not sure exactly who’s fucking him when things start to change, he just knows that they love him, that they care, and that he is safe when suddenly, the incessant heat becomes _focused_ , purposeful, weightier. The itch and fire that has been coursing through him are no longer abstract things, no longer scattered across his blood and bones, but rather seems to climb through his body, searching for some kind of outlet.

In the end, what makes him come is not the incessant slide against his prostate, it’s not the pinching touches to his nipples or the nipping kisses to his thighs (even if that, admittedly, does help), it’s the way there’s a soft voice in his ear, a breath ghosting across his skin, hot and warm, “Seun-ah,” it whispers, rhythm steady, gentleness creeping like a burning balm into his ear, coaxing the itch into bare light, “Seun-ah, it’s okay, we’re here.”

And that, in the end, is what makes Jackson come.

\--

The orgasm rips out of Jackson with an almost guttural sound. Jackson sobs and folds over, spit clinging to his red, swollen lips. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he gasps his climax, his cock shooting ropes of cum over his own stomach, over the beautiful sculpt of his abs. He is still hard, but -

Jaebeom’s hips stutter as he fucks into Jackson, each thrust forcing another ribbon of cum out of Jackson’s hard cock. Jinyoung, who has Jackson in his lap, Jackson’s golden head resting on his folded legs, lets out a soft, relieved breath at the sight, and Yugyeom, who is laying next to them, fingers wrapped around Jackson’s wrist, smiles.

Jaebeom groans, panting harshly, coming inside Jackson for the umpteenth time that night. His arms tremble as he stays still, makes sure everything stays inside. When he pulls out, Jackson whimpers at the loss, a sound that Jaebeom thinks he will never forget.

“Is it over?” Yugyeom says, carefully wiping at Jackson’s forehead, dripping his fingers into water so that Jackson can suck it off his fingers. Jackson hollows his cheeks, sucks Yugyeom’s fingers into his mouth, and Yugyeom watches it with dark, heavy eyes.

“No, not yet, But - but this should be the turning point,” Mark answers, lounging beside the bed, just... trying to catch his breath, for a while. He’s drinking some water, eyes tracing over Jackson’s debauched, cum-stained image. He hasn’t tired of it yet. He doubts he ever will.

Jackson, who has been breathing easier since he came, starts to gasp again, sweet, begging little noises, and Yugyeom takes Jaebeom’s place, setting his pace hard and brisk. He helps Jinyoung move Jackson a bit so that Jackson can turn his head and suckle at Jinyoung’s half-hard cock, lapping at the head to swallow any escaping pre-cum.

With his hands on Jackson’s strong, heavy thighs, Yugyeom forces them wider, watching as Jackson goes down into an almost-split. Yugyeom has been watching the entire night, watching the way Jackson’s body bends and moves, the way his strength and flexibility makes his movements fluid and graceful. Jackson’s breath hitches and he releases Jinyoung’s cock from his mouth, blinking lazily as he turns his head slightly, his dazed eyes looking at and past Yugyeom, his pink tongue darting out to lick at dry lips.

Jackson has been nothing but this, a shivering body of need and desire, for almost three hours. Even when he’s slept, he’s moaned, his hips twitching, rubbing his cock against the sheet, desperate for friction and release.

Yugyeom runs a finger along Jackson’s cheekbone, traces the pretty pink of his lips, smiling as Jackson’s tongue slips out to lick at the pads of his fingers. Jackson’s beautiful large eyes are glazed and distant, but at least they’re turned towards Yugyeom. Jinyoung’s hand is in Jackson’s hair, entangled in soft, silken strands.

He burrows his face in Jackson’s neck, keeps his hands on Jackson’s knees so that the stroke of his hips hit deep, finding the abused nerves of Jackson’s prostate. Jackson moans, whimpers into thin air, his body starting to tense, and Yugyeom feels every tensing muscle reverberate through him, in the clenching of Jackson’s hole around him, in the shivering, resonating tremble of Jackson’s body. 

Jackson’s breath hitches, the sound darling-sweet, and Yugyeom groans, rhythm stuttering, spilling his release into Jackson’s waiting body.

Yugyeom gathers his breath, feeling as though he just fell apart, and he feels the weight of Jinyoung’s comforting hand in his hair, gently petting through the wavy, dark strands. He feels... raw and flayed open. Yugyeom takes a deep, shuddering breath and looks into Jackson’s face, at his sweet-swollen mouth, his red tongue, his flushed cheeks, and glassy gaze.

“I miss you, hyung,” Yugyeom murmurs, swallowing around a sudden thickness in his throat, because he _does_. This is undoubtedly Jackson, this trembling, strong body of throbbing need and building desire, but it also... isn’t. Jackson’s hoarse voice is his own, but the mewls and wordless pleas carry little of the man’s usual lilt and cadence. And Yugyeom - Yugyeom misses _Jackson_ -hyung, with his bright laughter and incessant blabber, his sullen pouting and loud demands for attention he pretends aren’t that.

There is a soft break of silence, a gentle lull of the burning frantic speed of the last couple of hours, and then Jackson sighs, gentle and soft.

“Gyeomie,” Jackson murmurs, and it’s the first proper word he’s spoken for hours. Jackson pets a clumsy hand along Yugyeom’s cheek, “Gyeomie,” he slurs, petting his fingers over Yugyeom’s cheekbones in a mirror of the touch Yugyeom gave him minutes before.

“Hyung -” Yugyeom breathes out, and he can _hear_ the shocked, tearful relief in his voice, and he can feel the way it ripples through the rest of them, “Hyung, _hi_.” He presses their foreheads together and Jackson curls his body around him in an instinctive need to protect, his hand gentle as it strokes Yugyeom’s sweaty neck.

After a moment though, Jackson’s breath starts to shudder, his body starts to tremble. He presses a kiss to Yugyeom’s neck, moans hoarsely as he starts to twitch his hips.

“Please,” Jackson says, shifting his weight, spreading his legs wider, a vision of debauchery, lust, and need, “Please -” he breaks on the last syllable, whimpering the last inclination, “Gyeomie -”

Yugyeom almost feels _rotten_ about the fact that he can’t fuck Jackson, not since he just came, but Jackson is asking him too, _wanting_ him too, and oh - Jackson whimpering his name as he comes, panting out the clicks of Yugyeom’s name as Yugyeom makes him come, and come, and -

There is a hand on the small of his back, a familiar weight, accompanied by a voice and tone that is more familiar to Yugyeom than his own, “Let me,” Bambam says, his eyes intent on Jackson’s face, hungry and eager. Yugyeom huffs out a bit of laughter because he knows that look, competitive and challenging.

Jinyoung prepares to help Jackson onto his stomach so that he can fuck Jackson’s mouth while Bambam takes him, but Bambam stops him, humming the next words in a lilting tone of voice, “No, I want to hear him.”

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, but smiles, acquiescing his place with a shrug, moving back a bit to give Bambam space. Bambam bends his entire long, muscled, lean body over Jackson’s shivering one, and his always-present commentary is a low purr as he positions himself, holding Jackson’s legs together, moving them down so that Jackson is folded in two, his puckered, clenching hole, dripping cum and lube, fully on display.

Bambam fucks into Jackson hard enough to make Jackson scramble for purchase, his hips lifting off the bed at the powerful thrust, Bambam sheathing his long, slender cock inside Jackson in one fluid, forceful movement.

Jackson gapes and gasps, his voice growing thin and high. Bambam fucking loves that. Bambam loves that he can make Jackson sound like this, can make his deep, raspy voice break and squeal. Bambam grins, leaning forward until he has folded Jackson completely, Jackson’s ankles crossed almost demurely as he is fucked open, bare, and displayed, his breath hitching as Bambam finds his rhythm.

It’s a vigorous rhythm, energetic and a bit frantic, and Bambam manages to figure out exactly how to angle his thrusts, how to pound his hips so that his cock hits Jackson’s prostate every time. Jackson is so slick around him, warm and loose, his asshole accepting Bambam with barely any resistance, just warm, welcoming heat. Bambam pauses, for a bit, sliding his cock halfway out, leans back and gazes to where they are connected, to where his cock disappears into Jackson’s tight heat. Bambam takes a finger, traces it along the muscle clenching around his cock, testing -

“I could probably fit a finger in here, next to my cock,” Bambam blurts out, because Bambam doesn’t have any filters at the best of times, and right now, well, let’s just say it’s not a situation that encourages _boundaries_ and _respectful speech_ , “Maybe we’d fit an entire cock next to me, huh?”

Jackson pants, his legs twitching, as though he is trying to move them, but Bambam’s grip is sure and strong, and he keeps Jackson right there, split open and helpless, “Would you like that, hyung?” Bambam says, smiling around the words, teeth sharp around each sound, “Would you like to take three of us at once? Two in your loose, pretty little hole -” Bambam thrusts forward, and Jackson _mewls_ , an animalistic, needy sound, “One down your throat?” Bambam takes his other hand, the one that isn’t holding Jackson’s legs together and up, presses them against Jackson’s mouth, sliding two fingers over Jackson’s tongue, pinching it between them, slicking the slide with Jackson’s spit and drool. He thrusts, the sound Jackson makes muffled against his fingers, “Fuck, I know I’d like to see it.”

Bambam removes his fingers from Jackson’s mouth, slides them between Jackson’s legs, teasing a touch along where Jackson’s cock is nestled between his thighs, hard, leaking and ignored, dripping pre-cum, before he presses it to where Jackson’s hole is clinging around Bambam’s cock. 

He wriggles the finger slightly, and Jackson makes a low, broken sound in the back of his throat, his eyes sliding shut, “Look at me, hyung,” Bambam murmurs, his full lips twisting as he carefully worms his finger inside Jackson, stretching him hot and tight around both finger and cock, “Look at me. I want you to know I’m the one making you do this.”

Jackson’s eyes flutter open, first half-way, and then entirely open as Bambam tries to find a rhythm, hips and hands working in tandem. It takes a while, the stretch and position are a bit awkward, but Bambam is a dancer, good at knowing what his body can and can’t do, and soon he finds his old, vigorous, energetic rhythm.

“Tight,” Bambam grinds out, between his teeth, stroking his own cock while still inside Jackson, “So fucking _hot_ -” he thrusts once, twice, Jackson mewling, squealing. He feels Jackson start to convulse, Jackson’s entire body clenching tight before releasing, like a taut rubber-band waiting to be cut.

“Say my name -” Bambam snarls, fucking each squeal and high-pitched sound out of Jackson like a man with a mission, “Say my _name_ , Hyung.”

“Bammie,” Jackson breathes out, twisting the name around a moan, “Bammie, Bammie, Bam -”

“Now _come_ ,” Bambam hisses into Jackson’s ear, pushing another finger into Jackson’s hole, scissoring them open around Bambam’s cock, “ _Come_ for me, hyung.“

And Jackson, who can deny Bambam nothing, comes for the second time that night. He comes with a slack jaw, his body shaking and falling apart around Bambam’s cock and fingers, his body shaking through his aftermath as Bambam fucks him through every second of it, hitting true and steady each hard stroke.

“Knew I could do it,” Bambam grins, removing his fingers to concentrate on chasing his own relief. He pants and closes his eyes, loses himself in the tight, slick heat, the warm, welcoming fold of Jackson’s body, Jackson’s broken voice squealing _bam_. Bambam shudders as he comes, the frantic lines of his body quieting, becoming still, and when he feels a hand in his hair, a curl of fingers over his cheeks, he leans instinctively into the touch.

“Such an _asshole_ , Bam-ah,” Jackson says, his voice tired and used, but when Bam looks up, blinking back something wet in the corner of his eyes, relief exploding through him like a sunrise as Jackson smiles, tugging a bit at the end of Bambam’s hair, making the younger man wince, ”Fuck _you_.”

“Oh, thank god, he’s back,” Mark says, giving voice to all their collective relief. He moves so that Jackson can fall into his embrace, his arm coming to rest protectively around Jackson’s waist. Jackson makes a low, questioning sound, slipping into Mandarin, and it takes a moment for Mark’s brain to rewire, to understand what he’s saying. _Have you eaten?_ Jackson asks, his skin already flushing back into heat, the trembling of his limbs slowly starting up. _Have you eaten?_ Jackson asks again, slurring on the harder vowels. Mark buries his head in Jackson’s hair, hides his smile against it.

“Yeah, gaga,” Mark murmurs, offering Jackson the comfort of his mother-tongue, even as Jackson shivers into lust-fever once more, the brief moment of clarity once again lost, “Yeah, I’ve eaten.”

Mark is gentle when he feeds Jackson his cock, thumbing at the spit dribbling down Jackson’s chin, murmuring soft endearments in Mandarin. Jackson’s eyes flutter shut as his mouth is filled, blissed-out, pupils blown wide. Mark thrusts shallowly, hand on Jackson’s neck, gently steering how deep he can take him, even though Mark’s pretty sure whatever gag-reflex Jackson had before, it’s gone now. It still feels appropriate, to be careful, to watch Jackson’s blissful expression and the way his lips look so pretty, stretched over Mark’s cock.

After a couple of moments of hypnotic, stable movements, Jackson’s eyes flicker up to meet Mark’s, his lips twitching even as he sucks on the cock in his mouth. Mark knows that twitch, knows the way the corners of that pink mouth ticks up, and he knows that Jackson is smiling.

Fuck. The guys are _never_ going to let him live this down, he thinks as he comes, cradling Jackson’s neck in his hand, spilling into warm, wet heat riding the waves of Jackson’s smile.

Jackson murmurs softly as Mark helps him back, licking his lips, eyes falling shut. They should get him to eat something - uh - something more substantial than cum, and they should get some water into him, but right now - right now, Mark just wants to run his hand through Jackson’s hair and let him sleep.

“You’ve been doing so well, gaga,” Mark murmurs in Mandarin, Jackson snuggling closer, his breath evening out, and maybe - maybe Jackson will actually get an hour of peaceful sleep, where he doesn’t whine and sob for cock in his sleep, “Go to sleep, baobei. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Jackson mumbles something, curls his fingers around Mark’s offered hand, and falls asleep.

\--

Another hour passes, after Jackson wakes up, gasping and begging, still caught in the confusing, melding heat of his curse. Currently, Jackson is on his knees, Jinyoung fucking into him from behind in his usual, steady, unforgiving rhythm. Jaebeom is watching them, leaning back against the headboard, waiting for his turn, lazily stroking his cock. Whatever awkwardness might’ve been there at the beginning of the night, of watching and keeping themselves hard, of finding pleasure in the images presented, was long gone by now. Youngjae is next to Jaebeom, one leg outside of the bed, his head on Jaebeom’s shoulder, watching Jinyoung and Jackson as well.

Without really thinking, Jinyoung shifts their position, makes Jackson stand upright on his knees, still driving into him from behind. Jackson is a vision, especially now that his skin is returning to it’s healthy, golden gleam, with bruises from hands, nipping kisses and bites littering his muscled body. Jinyoung feels a bit drunk, on the way Jackson feels around him, off Youngjae’s breath shifting in weight as Jackson is shown off, the way Jaebeom swallows, tracing Jackson’s body with his eyes. _I won’t be the thing that tears our group apart_ , Jackson had said. Oh, what could’ve been further from the truth?

Without really thinking about it, Jinyoung’s hand comes round to cradle Jackson’s stomach, his toned stomach swollen just slightly, full of swallowed and taken cum. Jinyoung rests his hand there, at the gentle little swell, mouthing at Jackson’s neck, exhausted and tired, but still content, still warm, still happy. 

Jackson moves his head, glances down at the hand resting on his stomach, and when he speaks, his voice is raw, hoarse, and misused, “A new fetish, Jinyoungie?” He giggles, bringing his own hand to put it over Jinyoung’s, intertwining their fingers, his voice is... well, his voice sounds like he’s sucked a lot of cock, but the tone if it, the cadence, is clearer than it’s been for hours, “Do I look pregnant, baobei?”

Jinyoung’s pace, which is steady and sure, stutters for a second, and Jinyoung kinda falls into a flustered splutter, face flushing, starting to remove his hand, but Jackson tightens his hold on Jinyoung’s fingers and keeps him there. 

“Wanna fuck a baby into me, hm?” Jackson coos and Jinyoung just gapes, looking at Jackson who is - grinning _,_ broad and wide, "It's impossible, you know, but if we try hard enough, maybe..." Jackson turns his face so that their eyes can meet, Jinyoung’s shocked gaze finding Jackson’s alert, mischievous eyes, and at that, Jackson breaks into bright, loud laughter.

Jinyoung, without really meaning to, bites down on Jackson’s shoulder and comes, hand still intertwined over Jackson’s stomach.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jinyoung says, empathetically, burrowing his face into Jackson’s neck because he’s not sure what’s more embarrassing if he came from Jackson’s _words_ or from Jackson’s _laughter_.

“Ha, you _do!_ ” Jackson giggles and Jinyoung has to close his eyes against the sound because it feels like it’s been too long since he heard Jackson’s laughter like that, heard it loud and carefree. It’s been such a constant in his life, Jackson’s loud mirth and joy, that having it stripped away made the world duller, greyer, sadder, “Ah, you do, you do want to fuck a -,” Jackson laughs, snorting unattractively as Jinyoung swats at him with a squawk, which in turn makes Jinyoung fall back, slipping out of Jackson in the process.

Jinyoung lies down on his back, hiding his face into his hands, but then he feels a weight against his chest and he knows who it is even before he opens his eyes, glancing between the cage of his fingers. It’s Jackson, who has tucked himself onto Jinyoung’s chest, staring up at him with his large, beautiful brown eyes. God. Jinyoung missed him so much.

“Hi,” Jinyoung says, a bit wetly, before breaking out into a broad smile that he hides behind his hand.

“Hi,” Jackson answers, tilting his head, breaking out into a grin of his own, “Hi, Jinyoungie.”

\--

Jaebeom isn’t entirely prepared to deal with a Jackson who is - aish, how to say this without sounding like an asshole - _himself_. Jackson, complacent and cock-drunk, had been... Jaebeom doesn’t want to say easy, because the last couple of hours has been anything but, but he’d been... easi _er_ to handle in some ways. Now, staring into the face of a grinning Jackson, who has abandoned his place on Jinyoung’s chest to straddle Jaebeom’s lap, curling his hands around either side of Jaebeom’s jaw, Jaebeom is reminded of what a handful Jackson is. Jackson giggles, that stupid high-pitched giggle of his, and noses at Jaebeom’s neck. Youngjae laughs from their side, and Jaebeom kind of tries to glare at him, but finds that Jackson has a pretty good grip on his head. He instead settles on sighing long-sufferingly, which sadly only makes Youngjae laugh a bit harder, and he _definitely_ hears Jinyoung chuckle as well.

“You smell so good, leader-nim,” Jackson coos, a slight slur to his words betraying the curse still working its way through his body, but his eyes are bright and present, “Ah, you smell so good -“ Jackson’s breath hitches, and he bites his lip, grinding his ass down onto Jaebeom’s lap and hard cock, “Ah -” his eyes flutter shut, and Jaebeom suddenly feels a distinct sense of _loss_ at no longer seeing Jackson’s eyes. Fuck. Fuck, he’s gonna have to examine that later, isn’t he? Shit -

The curse-mark on Jackson’s neck is faded pale, still there, but more a days-old bruise rather than a recent punch, less visible than the teeth marks, the nips and hickeys everywhere else. Jackson makes a small noise in the back of his throat and _god_ , you’d _think_ it would’ve lessened, the way it affects him since they’ve been fucking for _hours_ , but no - no, when Jackson shivers in his arms, mouth open in a pant, Jaebeom swallows around the rush of arousal.

“Ah, wait, you should fuck me, Jaebeommie,” Jackson murmurs, pressing his nose against Jaebeom’s cheek, wrapping his arms completely around Jaebeom’s neck, and when Jaebeom’s hand comes to steady Jackson’s hip, when he presses his cock against Jackson’s rim, giving a half-thrust so that the head slides into place, Jackson gives a low, long, whine, still speaking, “Ah, so good, oh, I like this -”

Jaebeom closes his eyes, presses his forehead against Jackson’s neck as they start to find a rhythm, Jackson rolling his hips and Jaebeom thrusting up to meet him. Jackson gasps out needy little sounds in between his incessant babbling. He’s talking, talking about Jaebeom’s cock, about Youngjae watching them, about Jinyoung staring, about how cute Bambam is where he’s sleeping on the couch - fuck -

 _Fuck_ -

It’s _better_. It’s better like this, with Jackson’s hoarse, raspy voice running commentary, with breathless giggles in between the needy moans. They fall out of rhythm, for a second, which makes Jaebeom’s cock slip out, and the pout, the betrayed little pout Jackson gives at that makes Jaebeom give a surprised little huff of laughter, the sudden burst of warmth enveloping his chest coming like both a surprise and like something expected all at once. Jaebeom snorts, breaks into laughter, and Jackson, loud, bright Jackson, laughs with him even as he guides Jaebeom’s cock back into himself, tightening around it as he slides down to seat himself fully.

“You’ve all been fucking me so good,” Jackson murmurs, his words tinged with warm laughter, pressing a kiss against Jaebeom’s forehead, apparently relishing in the easy touching Jackson loves so much but Jaebeom finds a lot harder, “You’ve been fucking me so well, my leader-nim.”

Jaebeom hisses, his grip on Jackson’s hips tightening, ah, he’s close -

“I’ve felt so safe, the entire time,” Jackson whispers, silken-soft and raspy-voiced, lips quirked into a smile, “I’ve not been scared even once,”

At that, at the whisper of breath and assurance against Jaebeom’s ear, Jaebeom comes. At first, it doesn’t seem like Jackson will come this time either, but then Youngjae wraps his arms around Jackson’s waist from behind, rolling both his palms over the length of against Jackson’s hard, swollen cock, teasing his finger over the head, and suddenly Jackson clenches around Jaebeom’s softening, sensitive cock, and comes, head rolling back against Youngjae’s shoulder, cum splattering across Jaebeom’s chest.

Youngjae helps Jackson off Jaebeom’s lap and Jackson’s chest is heaving, his eyes fluttering shut.

For the first time in what feels like forever, they can take a break without Jackson practically having to fall unconscious first. Jackson whines and pouts, but he also watches the rest of them with bright, curious eyes as they clean up, change the sheets, eat and drink to keep their energy up. They offer Jackson some food, which Jackson only manages to get a few bites down off, but when they offer him water, he downs two entire glasses.

And most importantly, they can all relish in Jackson being _back_ , in Jackson’s high-pitched laughter and clear gaze, in his smattering jokes, the rasp of his Cantonese accent clinging to his Korean words. He’s still woozy, and he still shivers, a bit too hot, his eyes a glazed with lingering fever, but - _but_ -

It’s _Jackson_. And he’s _back_.

Jackson is curled up against Mark when he gives a full-body shudder as his breath stutters in his chest, heat coursing through him once again. He slides his hand down Mark’s slender, pale chest, pressing a kiss against Mark’s shoulder. 

“Mark-hyung -” Jackson murmurs, “Ah, sorry, but -” he gasps, his back arching, “ _Ah -_ ”

“It’s okay, gaga,” Mark settles himself against the headboard, plants his feet against the bed, “I want to see you ride me, is that okay?”

“Yes -” Jackson nods, eagerly, stretching his entire body, his lean, muscular frame glowing in the warm light, looking strong and delicate at the same time, “- Yes, I can do that.”

Mark thumbs Jackson’s nipples as he straddles Mark’s hips, and when he starts to slide down, one hand on Mark’s chest, the other one grasping the soft flesh of his ass, holding himself open, Jackson makes a low, content little sound. Mark knows that some of it is the curse, but he’s also... he’s also starting to think that some of it, the eagerness, the trust, the satisfaction at being stuffed with cock, was simply there all along, coaxed forward and brought into the light. Mark smiles, just a tiny one, at that. Trust Jackson to make a _curse_ into some kind of _self-discovery_ exercise, the ambitious ass.

He watches Jackson’s face, watches the fluttering of his eyelashes, the way he bites down on his pink lips, the blissfulness as he slides down onto Mark’s cock. When Jackson shifts to move his hand away from his ass, the head of Mark’s cock snug and safe inside him, Mark tilts forward, breathes against Jackson’s ear in low, murmured Mandarin.

“No. Keep yourself spread,” Mark smiles at the answering shivers he feels around his cock, the involuntary little clench, the hitch of breath, “C’mon, gaga, let them see.”

Jackson swallows tightly, but nods nonetheless, the flush on his cheeks rising high once again. Mark presses a kiss against one hot, blushing cheek, whispering praises in what certainly feels like _their_ language when they’re connected like this. Jackson leans forward, burrows his head against Mark’s neck, grasping his ass with both hands, spreading himself open and visible.

Mark doesn’t know exactly how it looks, but he’s been watching Jackson get fucked for hours now, and he knows the gist of it. He knows the swollen, puckered rim of Jackson’s asshole, he knows the sloppy drip of cum and lube escaping with every thrust. Still, when the rest of the group’s breath stutters, in tandem, he knows it has to look _better_ than that, somehow, which Mark hadn’t thought possible. But he gets it. It’s the way Jackson is flushed in genuine arousal, it’s in his flustered pants against Mark’s neck. It’s the knowledge that Jackson _wants_ them to see.

With a pinch to Jackson’s waist, Mark tells him to _move_. And Jackson does, holding himself open, oscillating his hips, rising to slide down over and over again. The way he’s leaning forward, holding himself open is not the best angle to hit his prostate, but that doesn’t seem to matter, because Jackson still whimpers every time he bottoms out, every time Mark’s cock slides inside him.

“You like them watching?” Mark feels hot, burningly warm, as Jackson tightens around him with the words, “They’ve been watching all night, you know. We all have,” Mark wraps his hands around Jackson’s waist, pressing him closer, making the arch of his back more noticeable, baring him even further to the rest of them, “You’ve looked so good, baobei,” Mark thrusts up, once, and Jackson’s breath stutters, “Fuck, it’s been such a treat, watching you full of cum and cock.”

Jackson whimpers, gasps something that almost sounds like _ah, don’t_ , but his hands stay where they are, does not stop holding him open, visible and bare.

“What are you telling him?” Jinyoung says, voice thick, his eyes glued to where Mark’s cock disappears into Jackson’s welcoming heat.

“I’m telling him he looks good,” Mark answers easily, switching back into Korean, “I’m telling him he’s been looking good all night,” Jackson whimpers again, and - _oh_ , he’s _shy_ \- Jinyoung and Mark share a glance over Jackson’s shoulder.

“So good,” Jinyoung agrees, all to a chorus of agreements from the others, Bambam leaning forward with a thoughtful expression on his face, “So _handsome_ , Seun-ah.”

Jackson clenches up again, and Mark comes with a soft moan, a barely-there gasp. He breathes out, pressing a kiss to Jackson’s hair, smiling as he curls his fingers around the wrist of the arms that’s enveloped Mark’s neck, keeping Mark pressed close. He’s softening inside Jackson, and as used as Jackson has been for _hours_ , Mark only has to shift his weight to slip out.

The soft sound of bereavement that escapes Jackson at the loss is - _fuck_ \- it’s fucking _something_ , alright. It’s fucking _hot_.

“You’re so sloppy,” Bambam remarks, reaching forward, spreading his fingers over Jackson’s asshole, over the loose, swollen rim.

“Fuck you, Bammie,” Jackson mutters against Mark’s shoulder, but his breath hitches as Bambam strokes two fingers against his asshole again, slipping in the mess of cum and lube. He slips them inside, and Jackson merely sighs, shifting his weight to allow Bambam better access. It goes so _easy_. Mark thinks about the beginning of the night when Jinyoung struggled to get Jackson to accept _one_ finger. _Fuck_.

“Hyung -” Bambam says, coming forward to wrap himself around Jackson, pulling him into Bambam’s lap instead, one hand on Jackson’s thigh, grip tight and bruising, “Hyung, I want to stuff you full,” Bambam continues, his voice as sweet as he can make it, which isn’t very sweet at all. Bambam is so bad at being cute when he _tries_ to be cute, but Jackson - Jackson falls for it every time anyway, “Please, Jackson, let me try to fuck you with Yugyeom-ah, both of us inside you at once,” Bambam makes a low, pleading kind of noise, and Mark smiles, because Jackson -

Jackson _wants_ it. Jackson would’ve given it anyway, but now that Bam is _asking_ , there is no way he’d even pretend to say no.

“You won’t fit,” Jackson grumbles, “You’ll wreck me.”

“It’ll fit,” Youngjae pipes up, “And it will look so _good_ , Jackson-hyung.”

“If you can’t do it, tell us, Seun-ah,” Jaebeom interjects, his voice low and steady, “You need to come at least twice more, but we can do it in other ways -”

“I never said I _couldn’t,_ ” Jackson sniffs, looking around at all of them, at his boys, his group, his heart swelling big and bright, and in the end, he just sighs, hiding a smile in the corners of his swollen mouth, anticipation starting to course through his veins, “Bet you I’ll outlast the lot of you, two on one or even three on one,” he counters, sticking out his tongue, and there is a ripple of laughter, and Bambam’s voice is heavy in his ear.

“I’ll take that bet, hyung.” Bambam says, tracing a long-fingered hand down, the plains of Jackson’s bruised skin, over the swell of his stomach, the thickness of his thighs, grinning as Jackson’s breath catches on his next exhale, grinning big and broad as Yugyeom comes to join him on the bed, “I’ll take that bet.”

Jackson shivers, the curse-mark on his neck is almost invisible.

He swallows, voice hoarse as he speaks, “Bring it on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know, there comes a moment in every authors life when you just have to ask yourselves, would these two characters have a pregnancy kink? the answer should come to you in a dream. jinson's weird little moment aside (they are both so into having a family and kids that i just felt that it kinda suited them, but if you want, just read it as jackson taking the piss out of jinyoung, because that's not untrue either), i hope this chapter was... hot? fun? tender? a slow but steady descent into 'what the fuck is this bullshit'? i just hope it wasn't boring.
> 
> my goal with this was to figure out the maknae-line a bit better, and i sure have. soon i will feel ready to write all the hot maknae-line x jackson one shots i want alongside all the jinson.
> 
> as always, comments are fantastic, and i know we should all love ourselves before we ask for validation from external sources but it's been a tough year and i'm coping with it by writing got7 smut, you have to imagine i need the validation. it fuels me.
> 
> next chapter might take a while, i have a couple of writings i want to finish first, and double-penetration is such a tricky thing to write. but hey, i've said that before and promptly updated two days later so lets just... see how everything goes, shall we?
> 
> [I made a twitter!](https://twitter.com/Syster19) if you want to hang out and talk a bit, that's where you'll find me. i plan on posting little like 'side-canons' of my writings once i... figure out if that is something people want. i don't know. i'm not a twitter person, i'm just trying my best.


	3. SALVATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last, trembling hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd, because honestly, writing DP is bad enough, you don't really want to make someone go through it with a critical eye.

Turns out that simply _saying_ that something should happen does not automatically remove the need for preparation. It takes a bit of maneuvering to get the three of them into position, with Bambam on his back and Jackson above him, while Yugyeom straddles Bambam’s legs. Yugyeom’s long fingers gently trace where Bambam and Jackson are connected, slipping in the lube and cum trickling from Jackson’s hole.

“Relax for us, Seunie,” Yugyeom murmurs, pressing a kiss against the back of Jackson’s neck.

“I don’t think _relaxing_ is the problem,” Jackson sniffs back, undulating his hips down upon Bambam’s cock, his eyes fluttering shut as the tell-tale itch of the curse scratch in his veins, heating his blood, gently hazing his mind in lust, even if it no longer overpowers him. He almost wishes that it would, for this, “I think the problem is that you want to stick _two_ dicks inside me, and it just won’t _fit_.”

“Hyung,” Bambam coos from underneath him, propped up against the headboard, both his hands on Jackson’s ass, stroking the firm muscle with his fingers as he follows Jackson’s movements, “C’mon, hyung, you already giving up?”

“Bam, stop fucking _goading_ me -” Jackson snits, narrowing his eyes, gasping as one of Yugyeom’s fingers slide in alongside the filling weight of Bambam’s cock, “- _ah_.” The stretch isn’t _bad,_ but it’s... present. He shivers, leaning forward, placing his head against Bambam’s neck, breathing out as he slowly tries to relax the shivering tension of his muscles, clenching around the widening intrusion.

Yugyeom slips in another finger, getting enough grip to slide both of his fingers along Bambam’s cock, carefully scissoring his fingers open as Jackson gives a low, whimpering moan. Yugyeom murmurs gentle praise as he kisses Jackson’s neck, continuing the movements of his fingers, sliding them alongside Bambam’s cock, each thrust widening Jackson just a little bit more.

“You’re gonna have to get on with it,” Bambam says, voice tight and rough, “I won’t last otherwise.”

“Oh, poor _you_ , must be _hard_ -” Jackson starts, breathless and high-voiced, arching his back as Yugyeom scissors his fingers again, stretching his rim tight around the extra digits, “- _ah_.” He clenches around the fingers and cock in his ass, letting out a long, raspy groan. The arch of his back, the line of his love bruise-littered body, the shivering tremble of his muscles, all of it painted in the light of the rising sun, stretching its long fingers over Seoul’s rooftops. It makes Jackson look like art. It makes Jackson look beautiful, and precious, colored golden in the tentative morning light.

“Hyung,” Bambam murmurs, and for a second, the soft insecurity that layered his actions at the beginning, as though the morning light brings with it unexpected softness, “You’re _my_ people, you know that, right?” He moves his hips, rolling them to thrust inside, hitting Jackson’s swollen prostate, “I can’t -” he presses a gentle kiss to Jackson’s swollen, pink lips, the last words slipping out of him like a confession, “I can’t believe someone tried to hurt you.”

Jackson makes a low, soft sound in the back of his throat, leaning their foreheads together, his brown gaze warm and a bit dazed, his voice thick, “I know, Bammie,” Jackson murmurs, placing both of his arms around Bambam’s neck, spreading his legs wider, arching his back to let Yugyeom slip a third finger into him, his breath hitching as he’s - oh he’s so _full_ , “I’m okay though,” he presses a kiss to Bambam’s cheek, “I’m okay, Bammie.”

“I’m going to try now, hyung, okay?” Yugyeom says softly, lining himself up, his voice warm and delicate, lacing his hand together with Bambam’s, sliding them to rest interlaced on Jackson’s hip.

Jackson closes his eyes, tilts his head forward, lets out a long moan as Yugyeom’s cock slides along the cleft of his ass, slipping in the lube and cum spilling from him, merely sliding over the sensitive skin until Bambam and Yugyeom both help him up so that the head of Bambam’s cock is barely inside him. Yugyeom lines his own cock up next to Bambam’s, holding both their cocks together with one of his large hands.

The first time, it doesn’t work. The rim of his asshole just doesn’t stretch enough, but then Yugyeom slides a finger in next to Bambam’s cock again, holding Jackson’s hole open with his finger as he guides the head of his cock inside Jackson’s already filled, sloppy hole.

There is the prod of Yugyeom’s cock against his asshole, the stretch of Bambam already inside him, and Jackson thinks _it’s not gonna work, it’s just not, it’s too big_. He whimpers, and then there are soft, sweet fingers against his jaw, gently cradling the cusp of his face. Jackson blearily cracks his eyes open a bit, looking into Youngjae’s bright, beautiful face as the younger man gently presses his thumb in between Jackson’s lips, giving him something else to focus on. Jackson gratefully hollows his cheek, happy to concentrate on something else as Yugyeom and Bambam slowly work their way into him.

The head of Yugyeom’s cock breaches Jackson’s rim, and Jackson groans around the finger in his mouth, whimpering as Youngjae presses down on his tongue with his thumb, keeping him grounded. Yugyeom gives a careful roll of his hips, and Jackson makes a noise that can only be called feral, every single muscle in his body going limp as the intrusion almost seems to trigger some kind of instinctive reaction.

“Ah -” Jackson moans, “ _Ah_ -” he shivers, something like fever wracking through his body, mind clouding as the stretch of two cocks inside him becomes _real_. His jaw slackens, no longer sucking at Youngjae’s thumb, but Youngjae keeps his thumb pressed against Jackson’s tongue, holding his head so that he’s looking at Youngjae. Youngjae hums softly, toying for half a second with the slackened tongue in Jackson’s mouth, watching it bend obediently around his finger.

“You can do it, hyung,“ Youngjae murmurs, gently running a hand through Jackson’s hair with his free hand, tucking a loose strand of it behind his ear, stroking a thumb over Jackson’s earlobe, “You are doing so well.”

Bambam spreads Jackson’s legs a bit wider, making Jackson slip down further over both cocks. Jackson gives a faint whimper, his eyes falling shut as he concentrates on being used, on being stretched, on being fucked open on two cocks. Yugyeom gives a low panting whine, and Bambam is _quiet_ for once, his endless little noises tucked into hiding in harsh, struggling exhales of breath. He is staring up into Jackson’s face, at the slack-jawed relaxation, at the shivering tremble of Jackson’s limbs, his thumb gently stroking both over the skin of Jackson’s hip, but also over Yugyeom’s hand interlaced with his.

“Cat got your tongue, Bam-ah?” Youngjae says teasingly, smearing some of Jackson’s spit over his lip, pulling the lip down to reveal Jackson’s white teeth.

“It’s -” Bambam groans, clearly forcing himself to stay still as Yugyeom hides his face in Jackson’s neck, thrusting carefully to slide in another inch, “It’s -”

“ _Fuck_ -” Yugyeom swears, bending his head to rest it on Jackson’s trembling back, “It’s so _tight_. It’s not going to work, Bam, let’s do something else -”

“Continue,” Youngjae interjects, the command coming on the back of a hum, a quiet, solid hardness in his voice, “You got him into this, now you get him through it.” Jackson makes a low, whining hum in the back of his throat, wrapping his lips around Youngjae’s thumb again, sucking it into his mouth as Yugyeom makes a slow, careful thrust, slipping in a bit more. The three of them groan in unison as Yugyeom slides in deep enough for him to almost bottom out next to Bambam’s dick.

“It almost looks like you’re breaking him...” Jinyoung says, his voice tight, laced with tired arousal as he watches Jackson’s relaxed, delirious expression with something nakedly honest in his eyes.

“They’re so _big_ inside him,” Mark agrees, swallowing around the arousal swelling inside him, at the sight of Jackson split open so completely.

“He can take it, right, hyung?” Youngjae coos softly, his thick, honeyed voice warm and calm, “You can take both of them, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Jackson slurs, nodding and bumping his head against Youngjae’s hand, groaning low in his chest as Youngjae’s hand curls affectionately over his skin, “Yes.”

Yugyeom gives one last small thrust, rolling his hips, and with it, both he and Bambam bottoms out inside Jackson, their cocks held tightly inside Jackson’s clenching body. Jackson gives a wordless, feral mewl, his back bending into the line of a taut bow. For a moment, as they find their breath, their bodies tight and hot, the three of them are _one_ , every shiver and groan, every whimper and moan, coming from all of them rather from one. Yugyeom gives an almost instinctive little twitch of his hips, his cock gliding along Bambam’s, held snug inside Jackson, and at the movement Bambam stutters.

“ _Fuck_ -“ Bambam groans, breaking on the vowel, and it sounds _reverent_. Yugyeom is all low, harsh breaths and pants, leaning to cover Jackson’s trembling body with his own.

“Move,” Youngjae orders, releasing Jackson’s face to lean back, watching the three of them, “Come on.”

Bambam and Yugyeom starts to move like one, always in sync but _especially_ so now, and _oh_ , at the first synchronized thrust, their cocks gliding out only to slide right back in makes Jackson’s eyes roll back in his head.

Jackson comes on the second thrust, whimpering out his release, his cock dribbling out a slow drip of cum. He doesn’t think Yugyeom or Bambam notices, because he’s stretched so wide he doubts they feel the pulsating clenching of his asshole, and so they simply keep going and Jackson merely closes his eyes, leans his head back to rest it against Yugyeom’s shoulder, and takes it. Takes the stretch, the burn, the fill. There is the obscene, wet noises of their cocks moving inside him, pushing into his lube and cum-filled hole. Jackson couldn’t speak if he wanted to, his entire body a display of debauchery ready to use. He moans, his head lolling on Yugyeom’s shoulder as he and Bambam truly find their flow, rolling their hips in matching, single-minded rhythm.

The itch, the burn between his shoulders almost seems to purr in contentment, _finally_ scratched. The pleasure is numbing, mind-breaking, and Jackson vaguely registers the low, needy noises he makes with each thrust, every broken little exhale he whimpers through as they use him up, stretches him wide and full, makes him tremble and shiver right on the line between mind-blowing pleasure and pain.

“Fuck,” Yugyeom groans, choking on the word, “ _Fuck_ , so _tight_.” Bambam makes an answering kind of call, his low voice groaning deep. Jackson gasps, murmurs some nonsense sounds underneath his next hitched exhale, sliding one trembling hand down his body, pressing it against his stomach, almost imagining that he can feel them inside him, moving, swelling him open.

“Inside,” Jackson mumbles, tongue tripping over the word, “Inside me.”

Their rhythm stutters, Bambam giving a hard whine as he thrusts, once, twice, and then comes, bringing Yugyeom with him over the edge, both of them clinging to Jackson as they gasp through their release.

Jackson’s entire body shivers as they slip out of him, slicking his thighs with their cum. Jackson leans forward, gasping against Bambam’s shoulder, Yugyeom rolling to the side, panting as though he just ran a marathon.

“Fuck, he’s _gaping_ ,” Jaebeom says in awe, reaching forward to spread Jackson’s asscheeks, looking at the stretched, open hole dribbling cum, clenching around nothing.

Jackson is gently moved from on top of Bambam, lain onto his stomach with his head in Youngjae’s lap. Lovely, warm Youngjae with his hard cock, his sure words, and calm presence. Youngjae smiles at him, his big smile breaking through some of the haze clouding Jackson’s quivering mind. He presses his thumb against Jackson’s lips, and Jackson opens his mouth obediently, stretching out his tongue.

“Well _done_ , hyung,” Youngjae murmurs softly, “Now, suck my cock, if you please.”

Jackson nods, opening his mouth wider as Youngjae slides into Jackson’s mouth without hesitation, sliding all the way into his throat. Jackson relaxes his jaw, his throat, let’s himself bliss out around the weight of Youngjae’s lovely, big cock on his tongue. The taste of his cum is familiar by now, almost comforting.

Youngjae’s melodic voice coos praises, and Jackson can’t - he can’t _hear_ them properly right now, but he can _understand_ them, feel the fluttering cadence of their meaning on instinct rather than intellect. He whines, garbling the noise around Youngjae’s cock, his hips rising from the sheets as he rubs his thighs together mindlessly, sliding them together in the mess dripping from his hole, staining his thigh slick and wet.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Youngjae hums, his ever-present laughter carried around the words, brightening them, “I told you you’d take all of me before this was over.”

Jackson nods, his eyes sliding shut, losing himself in the slide and taste of Youngjae’s cock, at the way it slides into his throat, fits so perfectly into the snugness of it. He was made to suck Youngjae’s cock, he was _made_ to take Yugyeom and Bambam all at once, he was made to whine Jaebeom’s name into breathless air, made to swallow Mark’s cum, made to shiver into pieces on Jinyoung’s cock. He knows he was _made_ for them, to be used, to be loved, and the revelation carves itself into the bones of him, settles alongside the knowledge of his name, the weight of his ambitions, the shivering contradiction of his utmost confidence and crippling self-doubt.

“Jackson-hyung,” Youngjae murmurs, gently running his fingers underneath Jackson’s eyes, at the dripping wetness falling from Jackson’s large brown eyes, “Are you crying?”

Jackson hollows his cheeks around Youngjae’s cock, presses his tongue against the underside of it, undulates his throat as Youngjae thrusts into it. He feels light, he feels bright, he feels _free_. When Youngjae comes down Jackson’s throat, Jackson swallows every drop, licking his lips as Youngjae slides out of him, cock softening.

“Hyung -” Youngjae says, brow furrowed in concern as Jackson’s eyes spill over with tears once more, as a quiet, quivering gasp slip out of his mouth, ”Are you -”

“I’m yours,” Jackson stutters, trying to find the words for it, for the conviction recently carved into his bones, for the bone-deep surety of purpose recently discovered, “I’m all of _yours_ ,” he sobs, holding up his arms, quickly pulled into Youngjae’s arms, tucked into a tight hug.

“We know,” Youngjae soothes, “We know, hyung.” He hugs Jackson tighter, Jackson digging his hands into Youngjae’s back.

The morning light creeps fully into the room, and as it does, the last traces of the curse mark fades from Jackson’s neck. He is gently disentangled from Youngjae’s arms, pulled back into Jaebeom’s arms, leaning against his strong shoulders, body still trembling with heaving, little sobs.

“You need more?” Jaebeom murmurs, tracing the place where the curse-mark used to be, his voice low and gentle. Jackson nods, his tears trembling down over his cheeks.

“Even still -” Jackson exhales shakily, touching his fingers to where Jaebeom’s are resting, over the place where no curse-mark resides, “Even if -”

“Yes,” Jaebeom murmurs, carefully touching their fingers together, the touch intimate and gentle, “Whatever you need, Seun-ah.”

Jackson is tired. Bone-tired. He is a shivery mess, swollen full of cum, his thighs slick and wet, his mouth red and abused. And still, he nods. Because he _does_ need it, to settle the experience into reality, to solidify the last few hours' existence. Jaebeom leans forward a bit, carefully holding Jackson up by the hip, letting Jackson rest on his forearms. When Jaebeom thrusts inside him, there is no resistance, none at all, Jackson’s body just accepting him without protest.

“Holy fuck,” Jaebeom groans as Jackson kind of grumbles, sniffling through another wave of tears, raising his head a bit to glare back over his shoulder.

“Be _nice,_ hyung, you saw what they did -” Jackson yelps as Jaebeom thrusts inside with a squelching, wet sound, Jackson’s wet eyelashes fluttering over his eyes with the movement.

“Oh, I _saw,_ ” Jaebeom growls in his ear, “I fucking saw, Seun-ah.”

“Should’ve seen his chin,” Mark rumbles, stretching out onto the bed, gently leaning forward to wipe the tears from Jackson’s eyes, “It was _this_ close to being dislocated.” Mark grins, warm and tender, showing all his lovely sharp teeth.

“Ooh, _jealous_ much, hyung?” Yugyeom quips, snorting into laughter next to Bambam, who is sleeping against his shoulder, “Ah, but who can blame him? You must’ve looked fantastic between us, Jackson-hyung.”

“Quite the sight,” Jinyoung agrees, his eyes disappearing into the lovely crinkles of his face, “So strong, for being able to do it.”

“Just like you promised,” Youngjae agrees, wrapping his hand around one of Jackson’s as Jaebeom thrusts inside, making Jackson glide forward on the bed, “You always try so hard, Jackson-hyung, and do so well for all of us.”

Jaebeom doesn’t say anything as he bites down on Jackson’s shoulder, emptying inside him, but the warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his embrace, that’s - that’s enough.

Jackson comes like that, wet and loose and sobbing, clenching around Jaebeom’s cock. There is barely any sign of it, no cum leaking from his cock, just his body tipping first into tension, and then onto a long, pulsating release, his cock twitching as he comes dry, surrounded by the people he trusts and loves the most.

**Coda**

_The bath_

“I can bathe myself,” Jackson whines as Jinyoung helps him into the steaming bath, and Jinyoung hums cordially, his voice low and amused as he answers.

“I don’t doubt it,” Jinyoung sits on the side of the bathtub, as Jackson hisses and lowers himself into the hot water. Jackson feels _tenderized_. He feels like a walking _bruise_. He also feels sated, calm, _loved_. It’s funny how these things work.

“So why are you here, then, if I can do this myself,” Jackson sniffs a bit primly, but still groans as the heat starts to seep into his tense muscles, “You should go organize the disaster that’s going to be dinner. I can’t believe you left Mark in charge of ordering food, he’ll only order things that break my diet.”

“Because you can barely walk,” Jinyoung says, smiling down at Jackson, looking handsome and domestic in his low-hanging sweatpants and no shirt, “Can’t you take a cheat day? I feel like these are pretty extraordinary circumstances.”

“Are you telling me I couldn’t have walked here? Is that a _dare_?” Jackson grumbles, narrowing his eyes, warmth spreading through his chest as Jinyoung’s loud, dorky laughter rings out in the bathroom.

“It’s absolutely _not_ a dare. You’d probably learn to fly if someone said you couldn’t,” Jinyoung’s face is warm, his smile broad. He hesitates for a second before gently running his hand through Jackson’s hair, his smile softening into soft awe as Jackson leans into the touch.

“I wouldn’t,” Jackson mutters, “I’m afraid of heights.”

In the distance, they can hear Youngjae’s loud, bright laughter, they hear the loud, shrilly, harmonized voices of Bambam and Yugyeom bickering with an increasingly exasperated Jaebeom. They only hear Mark as he shouts over the lot of them to bring them into silence so that he can make the phone call to the restaurant. Jackson swallows around the tightness of his throat. Jinyoung looks down at him, carefully tracing a finger over his cheek.

“Want me to wash your hair?” Jinyoung says, voice carrying all the little things he’s not saying. _I love you, they love you, we love you as much as you love us_.

“Yeah,” Jackson says, relaxing back into the hot water, his voice trembling just so slightly, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i am a lone figure, dragging a soapbox out in front of an amphitheatre with barely any audience, it’s black maw stretching out in front of the stage. i stand on top of it, clearing my throat once before i speak_ so i know that jaebeom is generally seen as GOT7s hard top but i am here to present hard, scientific fact to why that title should be youngjae’s - _there is an uproar from somewhere above us, people banging on the doors, screaming to be let in_ , - shit they found me, god i have to leave, i have to protect my research _i scramble off the stage, the soapbox tipping over. i disappear out into the night, never to be seen again_.
> 
> youngjae only really came into shine in this last chapter. my excuse is that it took a while until i vibed with his brand of big dick energy. we all look forward to greater things in the future. 
> 
> i really feel like i have to say this so i don’t deeply disappoint my friends in the bdsm scene: do _not_ fuck a sub through a sub-drop. that is _not_ how someone gets through it. this is a fictional setting, where jackson’s sub drop is metaphorical to the breaking of a curse, which means that we can explore unwise concepts for poetic license. but, like, if you ever find yourself in the scenario, _don’t_.
> 
> LAST CHAPTER GUYS SO HOW ARE WE FEELING? i have no idea. i don't know where this went. the last chapter was surprisingly short, but there is really only so much you can do after a DP-scene. So, uhm. Short and sweet, yeah? "sweet". Some kind of sweet.
> 
> I HOPE YOU'VE ENJOYED THIS JOURNEY WITH ME! I sure know I have!! <3<3<3<3<3
> 
> [I made a twitter!](https://twitter.com/Syster19) if you want to hang out and talk a bit, that's where you'll find me. i have a curious cat linked as well, so if you have any questions or smth you want me to expand on, write me there!


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